


Bet Somebody Here Might Get Some Now

by kbs_was_here



Series: Fapezberry Sex [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbs_was_here/pseuds/kbs_was_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Quinn's birthday. Santana and Rachel surprise her with an iPad and... something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bet Somebody Here Might Get Some Now

**Author's Note:**

> Filling Terry's request for the FaberryCon Fic Fundraiser.

“Can I take this off, yet?” Quinn’s getting a little impatient from behind the blindfold, though she’s doing her best to wait. She’s eager to find out what Santana and Rachel are about to present to her. It’s her birthday and there’s been talk around the apartment all day about this particular celebratory surprise.

She can tell she’s been walked around the apartment and seated in what she’s pretty sure is the armchair in their living room, because she can smell the cinnamon candles that sit on top of the coffee table. It’s also the chair she sits in to read by the window, so it’s a very familiar spot.

“She’s getting antsy,” Rachel says, from somewhere to Quinn’s right.

“Maybe we should make her wait a little longer,” Santana replies. She’s close to Rachel, given the location of her voice.

Quinn smirks. “I already know it’s the new iPad.”

There’s a gasp, a dramatic one, and it’s all Rachel. “Quinn Fabray. You mean to tell me you’ve been sneaking around, looking for your birthday present?”

Santana’s eyeroll is practically audible. “I told you hiding it under all your old back issues of Diva magazine was a bad idea. She’s a clean freak and she was bound to move them.”

“It’s Broadway Magazine,” Rachel defensively corrects, “and you read them, too.”

Quinn can picture what’s happening now, because there’s a brief silence. Rachel’s playfully jabbing at Santana and Santana’s shutting her up with a kiss.

“Maybe we should just give her the iPad now,” Santana says.

“All right. Quinn, you may remove the bl--”

Quinn’s already pulling the fabric away from her eyes. They aren’t in the living room. The chair’s been moved to the corner of their bedroom and the red candles that normally sit next to the latest copy of Broadway Magazine are now lined up across the top of the dresser.

There’s a brand new iPad sitting on the bed. Santana and Rachel are sitting on either side of it. They’re also both wearing only their underwear, brand new matching bra and panty sets, from the look of it.

“Happy Birthday, babe. Hope you break your record at Candy Crush,” Santana smirks.

There’s a grin splayed across Quinn’s face as she begins to rise from the chair, but Rachel holds out a hand. “Sit.”

Quinn obeys, but is quick to ask, “Why?”

“Well, as much as I’m sure you’re itching to Tweet about how great both of your girlfriends are for waiting two hours at the Apple store to land you this baby,” Santana picks up the iPad and leans across Rachel to set it on the nightstand, “it’s only part of your present.”

“What’s, um, the other part?” Quinn’s tongue moves over her bottom lip, eyes on both the women in front of her.

“You get to watch us,” Rachel informs her.

“Do… what?”

Santana’s fingers trail over the bare skin above the Rachel’s new bra. “In a word? Fuck.”

“My… birthday present is to… watch you two… that… but it’s my birthday?”

“Which is why,” Rachel says, though it take her a little effort, because Santana’s kissing her neck, “we have to do anything you say.”

“So make it good.” Santana tosses her hair over one shoulder and catches Quinn’s gaze before offering a wink.

“Oh.” Quinn’s mind is suddenly reeling with possibilities. “Okay.” She nods and she knows she probably looks like a dumbstruck teenager, because Santana has that amused look on her face and Rachel’s looking somewhat smug. That’s about to change. “Rachel, get on your back.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Santana says.

“Santana, you shut up and give me those panties you’re wearing.”

Santana blinks, then complies, scooting to the edge of the bed before taking her time to slowly drag the lace garment down her smooth, tan legs. They’re still hooked over one ankle when she holds her foot out toward Quinn, then she kicks them off so they land in Quinn’s lap. Rachel’s obediently reclining backward, though she’s propped up on an elbow so she can see what’s playing out between her girlfriends.

Santana runs her toes up the side of Quinn’s calf. “Just waiting for your next command.”

“On your knees. Over Rachel’s face.” Rachel and Santana both flush at the direction and they’re quick to comply. Santana settles with a knee on either side of Rachel’s head. Rachel’s natural instinct is to slide her hands up over Santana’s ass, though she hesitates, because she hasn’t been instructed to do so. “That’s fine, Rach,” Quinn says, craning her head to the side to get a better view of what’s about to happen. “Tease her first, though.” Santana releases a sigh and throws Quinn a glare. Quinn just shrugs and smiles.

“This was a bad idea, giving her this much power ov-- Jesus, Rach.” Santana grips the headboard.

“She doesn’t have to eat you out, I guess. We could just--”

“I get it, I get it,” Santana says. Her hips flex as she clearly tries to get better contact with Rachel’s tongue, but it seems that Rachel is just as adept at teasing as she is at rambling on about music trivia.

Quinn loves watching this, even when she isn’t the one calling the shots. There have been plenty of times she’s just sat back and watched Rachel make Santana squirm. There are stages to the whole production. At first, Santana tries to maintain control. She rocks and flexes and tries to turn the tables to her favor. Right around the time she’s about the huff in frustration, Rachel will turn up the heat. That’s what’s happening now. Quinn can tell Rachel’s lips are wrapped around Santana's clit, because Santana's grip on the headboard just tightened and her mouth is hanging open, just a little bit.

It’s incredibly sexy, but Quinn’s ready to escalate the situation. “Two fingers, but slowly.” Rachel’s right hand falls away from its grip on Santana’s backside and disappears between her legs. Quinn’s leaning forward, elbows on her knees, that pair of panties balled up in a tight grip in her left hand. “God, she’s probably dripping wet, isn’t she?”

“Mmhmm,” is Rachel’s response.

“Of course I’m wet, I’m riding her damn face, right now,” Santana groans. There’s a low moan when Rachel’s fingers push into her.

“Yeah, you are,” Quinn muses. “You’re both so fucking sexy.” She wants to get up off the chair, spread Rachel’s thighs apart, and dive right in, but there are rules, right now. “Ride her till you come, babe.”

She watches as they move together, as their found rhythm becomes erratic just before Santana’s head falls back and her muscles tense as she climaxes. “Fuck,” is the word that she repeats at least a half dozen times before pushing herself up off of Rachel and dropping onto the bed next to her. Rachel pulls her close and kisses her without Quinn’s prompting, but Quinn really doesn’t care. Santana’s momentarily spent and that’s always a beautiful sight.

It’s also a well known fact in their home that Santana has a very quick recovery time, so Quinn has no hesitation about moving things along.

“Santana, when you can move your legs, I need you to get the Phantom.”

Rachel audibly whimpers and Quinn can tell she has a good idea what’s about to happen next.

The Phantom was a purchase they made, all together, at the Pleasure Chest. Rachel was the one who insisted on naming the six inch dildo, saying it was a perfect moniker for something that was sometimes present, sometimes not. Quinn didn’t think it was necessary, but she’s learned to let Rachel have her way with these kinds of things. Santana had no concern one way or the other, as long as she got to fuck her girlfriends with it.

This is clearly evident in the present moment, because she wastes no time in prepping the strap on. During the wait for the next leg of events, Rachel takes it upon herself to remove her own panties, though she non-chalantly waves them in a lazy circle before Quinn gestures for her to toss them to her.

“Bras, too. Both of you.”

Santana’s still fiddling with getting the strap on just right, so Rachel reaches over and, with one hand, unhooks the garment. That’s enough to get Santana to look up from the Phantom. “Guess you’d better take it the rest of the way off,” she says to Rachel.

Quinn watches intently as Rachel delicately pulls the straps down Santana’s arms, exposing a pair of breasts that may not be 100% real, but they’re 100% incredible to look at. She pushes out a lingering breath. “Damn.”

“They are pretty amazing, I know,” Santana says.

Quinn’s eyebrow angles up, but she has no complaints as she watches Santana remove Rachel’s bra, then press against her as they engage in a heated kiss. More than ever, she wants to join them. But that’s the game. And she still has the ball.

“Warm her up, San. Right here.” Quinn kicks her foot forward and nudges the side of the bed.

Santana pulls Rachel to the edge of the mattress so she’s sitting, facing Quinn, then drops to her knees on the floor, her face between Rachel’s thighs. Rachel leans back on her arms, one knee draped over Santana’s shoulder.

There’s a smile at Quinn and Quinn can’t help but grin back. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hope it’s a good birthday, so far,” Rachel says, though her breathing is already a little errant.

“It’s incredible. Not too much, yet, Santana. You still need to fuck her.” Quinn wants a better look and it was never really established that she has to stay in the chair, so she casually slides forward, then kneels behind Santana.

“S’ cheating,” Santana mumbles.

“I’m not touching, just looking.” Though Quinn’s gently brushing Santana’s hair aside and kissing her neck.

“Back in the chair, birthday cheater,” Rachel says, looking at her through heavy lidded eyes.

“Fine.” Quinn primly positions herself back in the arm chair. “Rachel. On your knees, still facing me. Santana, fuck her from behind.”

Santana rocks backward, pulling her mouth away from Rachel. “Do we still listen to her if she breaks the rules?”

“You technically never said I couldn’t touch. You just said I had to watch.”

“Watching implies no touching,” Rachel counter.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want Santana to fuck you?”

“Hey, hey.” Santana throws Quinn a look over her shoulder. “I’m still fucking her. But maybe I’m just doing it because that’s what I decided to do.”

“Whatever gets you there, sweetheart,” Quinn smirks.

But Rachel’s already on her hands and knees with Santana climbing back onto the bed, behind her. “Say please,” Santana demands.

“Please,” Rachel replies.

Santana rubs a hand over Rachel’s back. “Not you, babe. The mighty queen Quinn, over there.”

“Please fuck her,” Quinn says, already squirming in her seat. She wants this to happen because she wants to watch Rachel get off and because once all this is done, she’ll be allowed to get her hands on her girlfriends, again.

“Good girl,” though it really seems that Santana’s talking to both of them, at this point.

The way Rachel’s eyes roll back as Santana pushes into her has Quinn wanting to shove her hand down her skirt. “Is there a rule about touching myself?” she asks.

“Oh, I guess we hadn’t thought about that one,” Santana says. She leans forward and kisses Rachel’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

“I think, yes, sure that’s, yes okay,” Rachel’s nodding frantically and Santana gives Quinn a nod in approval.

Quinn’s fingers are soaked with herself before Santana finishes her second lazy thrust. it’s funny, because the most erotic thing about what she’s watching, right now, is the way Rachel’s back arches. It’s incredible from any view and Quinn’s seen all of them. But this, right now, with Santana focused on working the right push and pull of her hips and Rachel’s face twisting in ecstasy, this is the one Quinn will vividly remember for a very, very long time.

She watches the leisurely dance between her two lovers until Rachel’s breathing picks up in that way, the one that signals she’s close, but she still needs a little more. “Touch yourself, Rach.”

There’s no argument about who’s directing what, anymore. Rachel’s fingers are nimbly working over her clit and then she’s pitching forward, back bowing as she comes. It’s practically stereo, the way Santana and Quinn both mutter, “Fuck, Rachel.”

Quinn’s hips can’t stay still and, as she watches Santana slow to a stop and wrap her arms around Rachel, her own orgasm hits her and she’s left breathless in her armchair.

“Get the fuck over here,” Santana says, her chin resting on Rachel’s shoulder.

It takes a moment to garner the ability to rise from the chair and take the three steps to the bed, but Quinn manages it and lands on the mattress next to Rachel, who reaches out and draws Quinn to her. Santana's arm drapes over Rachel and she interlocks her fingers with Quinn's.

"Happy birthday," Rachel mumbles.

Santana squeezes Quinn’s hand. “Hope you liked your gift.”

“I did. I’ll be orally dictating a thank you note, later,” Quinn replies.

Rachel smiles against Quinn’s skin. “It’s only common courtesy.”

“I think common courtesy also says you should be naked, right now,” Santana suggests.

Quinn shrugs. “So, undress me.”

“Oh god, Rach, she’s power crazed.”

“We’d better do what she says or she may not let us borrow her iPad.”

“Who says I’m even letting you borrow my iPad?”

“That’s it. Rach, get the skirt. We’re taking turns going down on her until she’s too exhausted to keep us from the iPad.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Quinn says, knowing full well neither of her girlfriends would ever back down from a challenge.

It’s going to be a long night.


End file.
